Not everything is about me
by Cake Eyes
Summary: Find out what really happened in the fourth year as Harry and Snape team up to find out who has been stealing from Snape's private stores. Rated T for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the franchise.

**Chapter One**

"Potter! What's your hurry?"

Harry had tried to make it out of the potions classroom after seeing Karkaroff show Snape something in his arm. He had managed to eavesdrop on them due to purposefully spilling his armadillo bile on the floor just at the end of class and staying behind to clean up the mess, but apparently Snape had guessed the truth.

"Nothing, professor – just trying to make it to dinner in time," he said quickly.

"You're not dismissed yet, Potter. There's still something we need to talk about," came Snape's cold reply, and he walked over to him so that he towered him like an enormous bat.

"What?" Harry asked, trying to keep the anger from his voice. He had already heard he was full of himself, believed he was above the rules and used all of his time to promote his fame. The only things missing from his list of insults today were that he was just like his father and that he thought everything in the world was about him.

"Firstly, I won't tolerate you listening to private conversations, so for that, I think… two hours of detention. Come here at this hour tomorrow: the first-year students will be making Hair-Raising potion, and there's guaranteed to be a mess afterwards. You'll have all the armadillo bile you could possibly scrub off the floor – without magic of course."

Harry managed to remain silent, for saying anything at this point would only result in more trouble.

"You have always had the habit of sticking your nose in where it's not wanted," Snape continued with a sneer, and Harry knew he was provoking him on purpose. "That's something you and your father have in common."

_So there was that. One more to go_, Harry thought and tried his absolute best not to start shouting. God, he was so tired of taking this crap from Snape and everybody else every single year. One year people talked behind his back and insulted him because they thought he was the heir of Slytherin, then because they thought he was a coward who fainted at the merest mention of Dementors, then because they believed he tried to steal Hufflepuff's thunder by making himself a Triwizard Champion, and now because of Rita Skeeter the whole wizarding world thought he had entered the Tournament just for additional publicity about his love life.

"And secondly, Potter, I'm giving you the one and only warning you'll receive to never steal from my office again –"

"I have been nowhere near your office!" Harry snapped, his vow of silence forgotten.

"Don't lie to me or I'll double the detention and take 50 points from Gryffindor," Snape told him, answering Harry's rage with his annoyingly calm and derisive demeanor. "Boomslang skin, lacewing flies, and now the gillyweed you used for the latest task – they all came from my private stores, and you were not in your dorms the night they were taken."

"I had nothing to do with that!" Harry insisted, and it was actually true in the sense that Dobby had stolen the gillyweed for him. As for the other things, they had in fact needed them for Polyjuice Potion in their second year, but Snape seemed to be accusing him of stealing them just recently. What was that about?

Neither Harry's anger nor claims of innocence, however, had convinced Snape the slightest.

"I thought I told you not to lie. Which reminds me," he continued as he produced a small vial of some clear liquid from his pocket, "do you know what this is?"

"No, but I haven't stolen any of that either."

"This is Veritaserum. Its use is strictly controlled by the Ministry, for even a few drops would suffice to make you spill your innermost secrets. In case you're wondering, Mr. Potter, now is the time to confess – otherwise my hand might just slip over your pumpkin juice and we'll hear the truth in the Great Hall tomorrow over breakfast."

"But I didn't steal anything!" Harry repeated, both furious and terrified at the thought of Snape carrying out his threat. "And I didn't have anything to do with the gillyweed. Someone… someone gave it to me."

Snape gave him a derisive smile.

"Of course. You would be so arrogant as to think you can just walk out there without any preparing and win the Triwizard Cup with the effort of a sneeze…"

Harry had had it for one day and was just about to scream bloody murder, but instead he surprised himself by smiling and casually asking Snape:

"Have you considered the possibility that it might have been someone else, professor? Not everything is about me, you know."

Snape just stared and blinked at him for a minute, apparently almost choking on the fact that Harry had robbed him of one of his favourite lines and used it against him. It didn't seem like he was going to say anything any time soon, and Harry assumed he might take his leave now. He had barely taken a step, however, when Snape found his voice.

"Stop right there, Potter!" he demanded, and seeing his glare Harry really thought he was going to curse him right there and then. "Just because you won't confess don't think you'll escape the severe punishment I've got in mind for you –"

Snape's voice was icy and dead serious, but he didn't get a chance to finish his threat before being interrupted by a rapidly speaking and very, very high-pitched voice.

"Harry Potter is innocent, professor! Don't punish Harry Potter, it was Dobby who did it! Dobby took the gillyweed to help Harry Potter! Dobby did it all on his own, Harry Potter didn't tell him to do it!"

Dobby had rushed into the classroom without any warning and was now standing protectively between Harry and Snape. Snape stared at the house-elf as if he had been a desk that had suddenly started to talk. It was clear that if he had expected someone to come to Harry's aid, it probably wasn't a house-elf wearing a whole drawer's worth of mismatched socks in his ears. The silence that ensued was blissfully long, but Harry knew that once it came to an end he would still hear his death sentence.

But when Snape opened his mouth the words that came out weren't the ones Harry had expected.

"You… are Lucius Malfoy's house-elf," he said slowly, eyes still fixed on Dobby.

Harry had to give Snape credit for recognizing him. Dobby hadn't been wearing so many socks back when serving the Malfoys, and Snape didn't seem like the type of person to put much mind to house-elves in the first place.

Even Dobby seemed surprised.

"Oh, yes. Dobby served the Malfoy family for a long time. Dobby remembers seeing the professor there sometimes. The Malfoy family was cruel to Dobby, but then good Harry Potter freed Dobby. Dobby is a free elf thanks to good Harry Potter and now works for Hogwarts."

Snape's angry gaze turned back to Harry, but something kept him from yelling at him, even though it was clear he really wanted to.

"The Headmaster will hear of this. Now get out," he finally said, and despite his confusion Harry was quick to obey.

"Thank you, Dobby," he said once they were safely out in the corridor.

"Anything for Harry Potter. Dobby was here dusting the portraits when he overheard what was going on and didn't want Harry Potter to get in trouble when it was Dobby who took the gillyweed."

Harry thought it was a miracle the elf could hear anything with his ears covered in so many socks but was grateful all the same.

"Well, you really helped me out just now. And by the way, thank you again for the gillyweed, too: I would never have made it without you. I hope _you_ won't get into too much trouble for this," he added, but Dobby didn't seem the least bit worried.

"Dobby is always glad to help Harry Potter. But now Dobby must get back to work."

They separated, and Harry hurried up the stairs to finally get out of the dungeons. Now he would need to find his friends to tell them the news.

There was a thief at Hogwarts, and he or she was making Polyjuice Potion.

**See you in the next chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the franchise.

**Chapter Two**

Harry found his friends in the Gryffindor common room. He hadn't bothered to look for them in the Great Hall, for they had agreed to hurry with the dinner to have all the afternoon and evening for the catastrophic amount of homework they had got this week. The goal was to get everything done before the weekend, for they needed it free to visit Sirius in Hogsmeade.

Ron had managed to seize a good table separate from the others, and when Harry arrived he, Hermione and Parvati were working on divination and the horrendously complicated O.W.L. level homework on Transfiguration that professor McGonagall had assigned them. Harry had barely touched his, but it would now have to wait as he was dying to tell them the news.

"What does that mean, then?" Parvati pondered once Harry had told them everything that had happened.

Ron shrugged.

"It means Snape has a soft spot for house-elves. Maybe you should ask him to join S.P.E.W." he told Hermione and tapped his badge for emphasis. Harry briefly wondered why he was wearing it but then realized it must have been to soften Hermione up so she would help him with the homework; Harry made a mental note to do the same the next time.

At the very moment Hermione didn't seem to be in a particularly good mood, though.

"She meant the theft in Snape's office!" she snapped at Ron. "And would you finally stop mocking my campaign?"

"I wasn't mocking it," Ron muttered, seeming genuinely indignant about the accusation.

"I've already told you that I foresaw your campaign not leading anywhere unless you make it into the Ministry first," Parvati announced from her side of the table. "Giving it a better name wouldn't hurt, either."

"Didn't we agree that you wouldn't talk any more about divination today?" Hermione groaned, revealing the reason to her bad mood; no doubt Harry had been spared a lot of talk about tea leaves and foreseeing while he had been scolded by Snape. There was no doubt which was the lesser evil, though.

"Might we return to the topic now?" he asked the others.

Hermione nodded quickly.

"Right, sorry. The Polyjuice Potion is way too complicated and dangerous for just a prank, so we can cross out that possibility right away."

"Unless it's my brothers. Fred and George have been awfully secretive of late, remember?" Ron mentioned, copying the symbols from Parvati's moon map on his own. Parvati saw what he was doing and snatched it back so Ron was forced to turn to his nearly illegible personal chart for advice. He gave a resigned sigh and leaned back from his work.

Harry had set out his own homework on the table as well, but for now he had only managed to scribble a couple of lines.

"Are those ingredients good for anything other than Polyjuice Potion?" he asked Hermione, drawing circles on his parchment in thought.

"No. I mean, boomslang skin can be used to make Muffling Draught, but the skin of any snake is good for that, so there's no reason to waste such a rare ingredient on something so menial."

"So it really means that someone in the school is using it to impersonate someone they are not," Harry concluded, "but who and why?"

"Could be literally anyone in the whole school," Hermione said, looking more than a little disturbed by the thought. "And there are lots of people to choose from this year."

"I knew it!" Parvati exclaimed all of a sudden and showed them her planetary notes. "See here: I foresaw that there would be a deceitful person in my life this year and that not everyone around me was showing their true faces," she told them enthusiastically.

Hermione was not impressed.

"That's vague enough to mean anything, Parvati – just like divination in general."

"It's not, and this proves it works!"

"Professor McGonagall says divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic."

"You're always belittling any subject that you can't be the best at. If you opened your mind even just a little –"

Ron rolled his eyes so that only Harry could see, and the two shared a meaningful glance. Hermione and Parvati had had this same argument so many times that by now they knew it by heart.

"It could be someone from the other schools," Ron suggested once the girls had calmed down a bit.

Harry had thought of that possibility as well on his way back to the Gryffindor tower.

"Could be," he agreed. "They have tried to spy for information on every task so far, and using Polyjuice Potion would make it really easy."

"I hope it is something that innocent," Hermione muttered.

Ron seemed shocked.

"What do you mean innocent? The other schools could be cheating! Harry could lose the tournament because of this!"

"I didn't say it was a good thing," Hermione snapped. "I mean that cheating is the least of our worries if it turns out there's something seriously illegal going on. Think about it: the thief could use the potion for anything he wants, and whoever he – or she – is posing as will take the fall. He could spy on anyone and never be caught. He could be anywhere in the school and we'd never know even if we saw him."

The thought was enough to send a chill down Harry's spine, and the others seemed nervous, too.

"So who do you think it could be?" he asked Hermione.

"CROOKSHANKS!"

The sudden cry startled all of them – especially Parvati, who jolted and fell right off her chair. Hermione didn't laugh, but she did lean towards Harry and murmur under her breath:

"Didn't foresee that, did she…"

A second later she had other things to think about as Lee Jordan came over to drop a very angry looking Crookshanks into her lap.

"Mind keeping your cat under control?" he asked. "It was picking off my tarantula's legs: just seven left now."

"Oh. Lee, I'm terribly sorry," Hermione hurried to apologize while trying to hold on to Crookshanks. The cat was hissing and attempting to wrestle itself free with all its might, apparently to get back to play with the poor creature.

"No worries, it can step-dance just fine without one leg," Lee said and dismissed the whole thing with a wave of his hand, which, Harry noted, was holding the said leg. It was the size of his middle finger, black, hairy and still moving. Ron noticed it, too, and quickly leaned away from him. Lee, on the other hand, didn't seem at all bothered by it and playfully walked it about on the table before taking a seat between Harry and Hermione.

"So, what have you four been whispering about here?" he asked curiously, leaning his elbows on the table. "It doesn't look like you've made much progress with your transfiguration essays," he observed and tapped Harry's scribbled piece of parchment with the tarantula leg.

They changed looks, and Harry felt the panic rise as he couldn't come up with any convenient lie, and the truth didn't seem like a very good idea in this situation: _We just found out there's someone at Hogwarts who could be posing as anyone – including you._ Lee was already raising an eyebrow at their silence, and it didn't seem like Hermione or Parvati knew what to say, either. Ron, however, was ready to provide Lee with an answer:

"Actually, we're in the middle of our weekly S.P.E.W. meeting," he informed him and straightened his shirt so that his badge was clearly visible. "Today we are discussing if we should organize cooking classes for people for the times the elves have the day off. You're welcome to join us if you like. I think I have some extra badges here…" he said and started to go through his bag. He sounded completely serious and Lee, who, like his friends Fred and George, hadn't been interested in joining S.P.E.W. suddenly spotted a potential love interest for his tarantula on the other side of the common room, and by the time Ron raised his gaze he had ran off.

"That was brilliant!" Harry and Parvati congratulated Ron, while Hermione didn't seem pleased at all, though the still struggling and scratching Crookshanks may have been at least partly to blame for that.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Ron said as she kept scowling at him, "I had to think quickly to get rid of that spider leg. Couldn't you just thank me for helping to keep this session private?" he pleaded.

"If you help me organize that cooking class. Not many wizards know how to cook by hand, so it was actually a good idea," Hermione said, making Ron groan.

"So, who were we suspecting again?" he asked to change the subject.

They discussed the different possibilities. Pretty much everybody seemed like a suspect now, especially anyone they'd seen around the dungeons lately. Ron thought all the Durmstrang students were suspicious – Krum most of all – while Parvati remembered hearing that Eloise Midgeon had been caught wandering near the dungeons one night, but none of them thought the pimple-faced Hufflepuff was a likely culprit.

"There's also that matter with Karkaroff's arm," Harry reminded them. "Could he be ill or something?"

"Maybe he was drunk one night, mistook Hagrid's hut for the Durmstrang ship and got bitten by the Blast-Ended Skrewts," Parvati suggested matter-of-factly. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Hermione, I didn't claim I saw it in a crystal ball – anyone can see how much wine Karkaroff pours for himself at every meal."

"I overheard some Durmstrang boys say he's been pretty edgy lately," Hermione admitted.

"So maybe it's him?" Ron suggested.

Hermione just shrugged. Crookshanks had finally calmed down and was now purring in her lap.

"No way to know for sure – unless we catch the thief the next time he needs fresh ingredients. Harry, when was the last time something was stolen from Snape's office?"

"I don't know, but he claimed I wasn't in the dorms that night."

"Could have been any night, then," Ron summarized. Parvati laughed, and Hermione didn't seem to know if she should join in or scold Harry. "Anyway, we could keep an eye on his office and just wait."

"A bad idea," Hermione argued. "Snape already thinks Harry is the thief, so it won't end well if he sees us sneaking around nearby. We could use the Marauder's Map, but the thief could still strike when we're in class or sleeping. I could ask in the library if anyone has checked out _Moste Potente Potions_, but I doubt Madam Pince will give us any names, so I don't know… Maybe we should just let this one go?"

"No way! Harry's victory could be at stake!" Ron exclaimed, and Hermione groaned in frustration.

"Ron, if it's something that trivial I'm officially signing off of this case. No offence, Harry."

"None taken. So, you really think we should give up?" Harry asked. He himself was definitely not going to do that, although he wasn't driven by the same thing as Ron.

Parvati said they should just forget the whole thing for now and finish their homework; on Saturday they could visit Sirius and ask if he had any ideas. Hermione just shrugged at Harry's question, absent-mindedly turning the pages of her copy of_ A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_.

"I don't want to quit, but at the moment there's nothing more we can do, right? We can't guard Snape's office at all times."

Harry was just about to nod, but then the obvious answer suddenly came to him, and a triumphant grin spread on his lips.

"Luckily there's someone who can."

**See you soon, dear readers!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the franchise.**

**(This one got so long that I decided to break it into two parts so the chapters would be approximately as long as the past ones.)**

**Chapter Three**

The next day Harry headed for the dungeons after his last class. He was sure Snape was going to keep him there all evening, even if it meant causing additional mess for him to clean up, and the whole time he would gloat over him and make him wish he had taken some potion to make him deaf. The only good thing was that if he was lucky, he might learn something new about the recent theft – if not from Snape, then later from Dobby.

After their talk last night Harry and the others had sought out Dobby in the kitchens and asked if he could keep an eye on Snape's office in case the thief came back or there was any other suspicious activity in the dungeons. Dobby had agreed to the idea, and the other house-elves had offered them tea and snacks, which were especially welcome since Harry had skipped dinner that day – and would again today, as the other students were eating in the Great Hall at this very moment.

In his first report Dobby had told them that a huge Slytherin boy had walked past Snape's office several times after midnight and that he had also seen a dark-haired girl in the dungeons. Harry and the others couldn't guess the girl's name from Dobby's description, but it was clear that the Slytherin had to be either Crabbe or Goyle – and if they were involved in something, so was Malfoy. Of course, whatever they were up to didn't need to have anything to do with the thief they were looking for, but they couldn't ignore the fact that because Malfoy was skilled at potion-making, he was one of the people who could successfully make Polyjuice Potion.

On his way Harry passed the first-years coming from their Potions class, though judging by their hair they might as well have just been saved from a hurricane. Everyone's hair looked unruly at best, and chaotic at worst, and Harry heard them complain what a horrible class it had been and how it would take hours to get rid of all the tangles. Only a few of them, however, had their hair pointing straight up, indicating that they had actually succeeded in their Hair-Raising Potion. Harry wasn't surprised, for Snape didn't usually have students make Hair-Raising Potion until their second year.

The door to the classroom was left open, and the fumes of the potions had spread everywhere in the corridor, making the hair on the back of Harry's neck rise. He, too, was sure to have his hair pointing to the ceiling by the end of the detention. He could see Snape sitting behind his desk and saw that his greasy hair, however, had remained unaffected by the fumes. He was just about to step in when he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head just in time to see a familiar, pimpled face disappear around a corner.

Eloise Midgeon! She should have been in the Great Hall like the rest of the Hufflepuffs they had just had History of Magic with, yet here she was – and apparently it wasn't the first time, either, for Parvati had said that she had been caught out of bed one night not long ago. There was now no doubt in Harry's mind that the girl Dobby had seen last night had also been Eloise.

But what was she doing here when no one else was around – and in the dungeons, of all places? Harry couldn't bring himself to believe she could be the thief – and even if she was, why would she still sneak around here? Just making the Polyjuice Potion took over a month, so she couldn't possibly need more ingredients so soon.

Then Harry realized it might not have been Eloise at all, but rather the thief impersonating her. No one would suspect Eloise of anything, and the thief only needed one hair from her head to look like her. Harry wanted to follow her and cursed that he hadn't seen her sooner, for Snape had already seen him, and now he had no choice but to enter the classroom.

Filch was there, too, smiling gleefully as he handed Harry a bucket and a cleaning rag.

"Let's see how you like doing my job for a change. Maybe after this you will think twice before leaving muddy footprints all over the castle."

_It was just that one time!_ Harry wanted to say, but thought it wiser to hold his tongue and just wait till he shuffled away; with Snape there he didn't need any more unpleasant company.

As promised, the first-years had made a considerable mess, for armadillo bile, pieces of frog brains and squashed rotten eggs were littered all over the tables, and the number of rat tails on the floor made Harry suspect that Snape may have encouraged it. In the front row one of the cauldrons had fallen over, creating a foul-smelling green pool, and some of the first-years had stepped into it, for several sets of green footprints led from it to the door.

"By all means, wait for the stains to dry and cling to the floor," Snape commented, not even raising his eyes from the essays he was grading.

_At least I'll see Sirius tomorrow_, he thought, rolling up his sleeves and starting to clean the nearest cauldron. Normally Snape would clean any mess the students produced with a flick of his wand, but now he had left it all for Harry.

Scrubbing the cauldrons was a slow and tedious work, and especially the frog brains clung to the inside like glue, even with Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. With the Summoning Charm he had mastered for the first task Harry could have cleaned up the rat tails in a second, but now he was forced to pick them up by hand, and after the first half-hour of work he was so fed up with armadillo bile that he was sure the mere sight of it would make bile rise in his own throat for the rest of his life.

Nevertheless, Harry made no complaints and did his best not to answer any snide remarks Snape would occasionally make. Normally he would have no more patience for them than usual, but now he found himself less affected by them, for he had other things on his mind: for various reasons he found himself very interested in the theft and the matter with Karkaroff's arm and whether they were related. He was determined to get some information out of this detention, even if it meant attempting some entirely new methods, such as a conversation with Snape.

With this in mind he now approached the fallen cauldron and got down to clean the mess on the floor, as it was right in front of Snape's desk and gave him the opportunity to strike.

"By the way," he started and gave him a casual look as he worked, "why did professor Karkaroff come to show you his arm yesterday? If there was something wrong with it, wouldn't it have been better to go to Madam Pomfrey about it?"

Snape stopped writing and looked at him with a sneer.

"If he wanted to discuss that matter with you, Potter, he would have come straight to you, I'm sure."

"He was nervous about something already at the Yule Ball, wasn't he?" Harry asked, curious enough to risk the punishment for having overheard their exchange in the garden.

Sure enough, Snape replied softly:

"Eavesdropping comes a little too easily to you, doesn't it? Twenty points from Gryffindor."

Harry ignored it completely.

"What is he so nervous for? Maybe it could have something to do with the theft in your office?"

"It doesn't – and another twenty points from Gryffindor for giving groundless accusations about a Headmaster."

Harry wouldn't normally have pushed the matter that far, but this year losing points didn't really matter: the House Cup was secondary compared to the Triwizard Tournament, and no one – well, except for Hermione – would care how many points were taken because of Harry when Gryffindor had a chance to win the Triwizard Cup.

Additionally, since there was no Quidditch this year, Snape couldn't punish him by timing the detentions so he'd miss the Quidditch practice. That robbed the Potions Master of his favourite weapons against him, leaving him only the nasty remarks and reading all the future articles about him to the whole class, but those things he'd do either way, and Harry had had so many insults thrown at him that he wasn't afraid of some more. It had occurred to him already yesterday that there was finally a good side to the blasted tournament, as he could deliberately annoy Snape with no real consequence, and the revelation made it hard for him to keep his smile to himself.

Harry wasn't there solely for the delight of irritating Snape, though, but rather the opposite. In fact, he himself could scarcely believe the next words that left his mouth.

"Well then, if you told me more about the details, maybe I could help you find out who the culprit was," he said as he wrung his cleaning rag over the bucket. His tone was completely neutral, but Snape's eyes narrowed instantly in suspicion.

"I'm hardly in need of your assistance, Potter," he replied coldly. "Incidentally, would you kindly tell your elf friend to leave my office alone? I've placed several spells around it to alert me of any disturbances, and your colourful friend has set them off five times today."

_Uh oh._ Harry grimaced, feeling slightly embarrassed. Of course he should have expected Snape would do something like that to prevent any new thefts.

"Oops, sorry," he found himself saying in what must have been the first sincere apology he had ever made to Snape. "I asked him to patrol the corridor in case the thief came back. I didn't think it would cause any trouble."

"You not thinking doesn't surprise me in the least," Snape commented dryly. Then he leaned forward, eyeing him with an amused sneer. "What is it with the sudden interest in my office, Potter? Could it be a guilty conscious?"

"On the contrary," Harry replied with a much more genuine smile, "since I'm not the culprit, I want to find out who is. It could be a serious matter if someone is secretly brewing Polyjuice Potion, so we should catch the thief before he or she has the chance to use it. When were the ingredients stolen? Have there been other times that your office has been broken into?"

"I'd advise you to mind your own business," Snape said. His amused expression had quickly turned into one of sheer annoyance. "If it indeed is that you, for once, haven't been the one snooping around after hours, this shouldn't concern your inflated head in any way. Now, get back to work!"

Harry had, in fact, been scrubbing the floor the entire time, and now took a seat to clean the cauldron. He didn't recall Snape ever conceding even the possibility that there was something he wasn't guilty of. From him it was almost like a praise – even if it was followed by an insult.

"I'm just asking since it would spare me the said snooping if you just told me the details yourself," Harry informed him casually. He didn't need to force himself to remain calm – in fact, he was actually enjoying this new tactic, as it seemed that by simply being civil with Snape he could make the vein pulse in his sallow temple with minimal effort.

"You will regret your insistence on testing my patience, Potter. Keep your idle babble to yourself; otherwise you'll soon find yourself facing a month's worth of detentions."

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, but Harry's smile only grew wider.

"Haven't the past three and a half years taught you that punishments don't work on me?"

"Perhaps they just haven't been severe enough," Snape suggested in a soft voice, leaning back in his chair. "As I recall, you still haven't tested your antidote, as the class was interrupted by one of your many interviews."

"If poisoning me will make you happy, go ahead – that way I won't need to participate in the last task," Harry replied calmly, and the malicious smile on Snape's face faltered somewhat; this wasn't the reaction he had been hoping for. "Oh, come on, professor, you must know by now that no matter how many detentions you give me I won't let this go now that I know there's a mystery going on. You know I will snoop around and stick my nose everywhere just like you said and break whatever rules it takes to solve the case. You can punish me all you want, but it won't stop me, and since you're also trying to find the thief, we might as well work together."

Harry paused and took in the sight before him: Snape's face and neck had been turning redder by the second as he talked, and the vein in his temple was bigger than ever. At the last part his face had twisted into a grimace of shock and disbelief, and his black eyes were now glaring at him, full of loathing at the mere thought of teaming up with Harry. Harry, on the other hand, found he couldn't stop smiling, even though Snape seemed to be dangerously close to his boiling point. Harry didn't want to work with Snape any more than he did, but the horror on Snape's face was something he would cherish for years to come.

When Snape finally spoke up, it was through clenched teeth, and his voice was reduced to a hiss.

"I don't know what new madness has got into you – and I don't pretend to care whether it requires medical attention – but if I hear one more word from you tonight or see so much as a glimpse of you in the dungeons outside of class, I will personally see to it that you will spend every night in detention until your N.E.W.T.s, and by the end of it you won't even remember what Hogsmeade or your common room look like. Is this clear, Potter?"

_For now_, Harry thought and shrugged, since he wasn't allowed to speak.

**Comments, anyone?**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the franchise.

**Chapter Four**

Snape still looked beyond furious but got back to his papers, and Harry resumed scrubbing the armadillo bile from the cauldron. In truth, he had no intention to give up his investigation. He knew that besides curiosity he had no real reason to care who was making the Polyjuice Potion, but that was _precisely_ what he liked so much about this mystery and why he was so eager to find out who was behind it. It didn't have anything to do with him and he didn't have to lift a finger for it if he didn't want to, so it was finally something he actually had a choice in.

Harry hadn't asked to be the world's most famous orphan, he hadn't asked for a scar to make him easily recognizable and to attract even more attention wherever he went, he hadn't wanted to get involved in every single strange occurrence that had happened in the school over the years, and he _hadn't_ wanted to be a Triwizard Champion, despite what lots of people still thought. He hadn't had a choice in any of those things, but this – _this_ was finally something he was free to decide for himself, and it also provided distraction from the upcoming third task.

In short: it was like a vacation for him.

He would continue searching for the thief despite Snape's threats: he wasn't afraid of any number of detentions – they were just more opportunities for him to push Snape for answers. He would, of course, have to find a new way to keep an eye on the dungeons for his main leads, Malfoy and Eloise Midgeon, since Snape had already noticed Dobby, but Harry was sure he would come up with something. Maybe he should ask Moaning Myrtle, or –

Harry froze in place, and his cleaning rag fell on the floor with a wet splat. The thought of Myrtle had brought back something he should have remembered already a long time ago.

"It was Mr. Crouch, professor!" he exclaimed, before even considering if it was wise. "He was in your office that night!"

He had seen him in the Marauder's Map the night he had solved the clue in the golden egg with Myrtle's help. That had been the night the ingredients were stolen, and he had even been there when Snape had discovered it! How could he have forgotten something like that? How was it that Hermione and the others hadn't remembered it either? _The damn tournament!_ The second task had taken all of his time, and afterwards he hadn't even once thought about Mr. Crouch. He had been in Snape's office, and if ingredients had gone missing –

Snape had raised his eyes from his work and was now studying him with an unpleasant smile playing on his thin lips.

"Congratulations, Potter: your ability to make up lies and talk nonsense has reached completely new heights," he said in his silky voice, which was always a sign of trouble. "I seem to remember saying something about what would happen if you opened your mouth again. However, I'm curious to hear how you presume to know this unlikely piece of evidence, unless you yourself were there at the time, as I suspect you were?"

Harry knew he had to come up with an answer fast. He couldn't tell he had indeed been there, although Mr. Crouch had disappeared before he saw him with his own eyes, as telling Snape would have been a confession of being out of bed in the middle of the night.

"Moaning Myrtle told me," he replied, saying the first name that came to his mind; he would have to remember to visit the ghost and get her to agree to his story in case Snape would go to question her about it. "She was around the dungeons that night – I'm friends with her, too, you know." He was satisfied with his answer, for it seemed to distract Snape a little.

"Your choice of friends is rather peculiar, wouldn't you say? I once knew someone who sought the company of werewolves and other questionable creatures for his nightly escapades."

He was speaking in the soft, malevolent voice he always used when talking about James Potter, but Harry wasn't about to suffer through another rant about his father: he was already doomed to have all the detentions Snape had promised and could wave goodbye to any chance to see Sirius, so he might as well say whatever he wanted.

"Well, _I_ seem to remember someone being so curious about where professor Lupin went every month as a child that _he_ sneaked out after hours, and it led to the very incident where my father had to help the said someone out."

During his last fit of anger Snape's face had reddened, but now it turned white. The glare he shot at Harry was icier than ever, and his hands were visibly shaking on the table.

"Get out," he snarled, baring his yellow teeth.

Harry stood up, but didn't make a move to leave. He knew he should just take the opportunity to get out, but he was just too caught up in his new-found ability to turn the tables on Snape. The Potions Master had tormented him for years, and it felt incredibly refreshing to finally be able to get on his nerves for a change.

"And speaking of help, my offer still stands: together we'd find the thief much faster," he told Snape in a reasonable tone, as if completely oblivious of his current state of mind.

"Is there something wrong with your ears, Potter? Get out!" Snape shouted, his eyes now aflame with pure rage.

Snape looked like he had just lost his last nerve, and Harry was reminded of the time he had been trapped in the stairs in his Invisibility Cloak and Snape had tried to find him, stretching out his hands in different directions, presumably to reach for his neck. However, he couldn't resist saying one last thing, even though it was so absurd it was almost guaranteed to bring his anger over the edge.

"We could really help each other here, we just started off on the wrong foot. We're really not that different –"

There was a loud scrape and a clank as Snape leapt to his feet so quickly that his chair fell over. Harry knew he had gone too far and that the half-cleaned classroom was now going to be his grave. Snape opened a drawer in his desk and picked something out, then slammed it shut and strode deliberately to him. Harry stood his ground in spite of the nearly insane look in Snape's eyes, mostly because there was no time to react.

When he saw the phial in Snape's hand, he expected Veritaserum or some deathly poison, and was simply stunned when he ordered:

"Tilt your head to the right, Potter."

"Er… what?"

"TO THE RIGHT!"

Out of confusion, he obeyed, and Snape didn't waste time uncorking the phial and grabbing him by the collar. Instinctively, Harry tried to pull away, but Snape took a firm grip of his ear and proceeded to quickly pour some of the contents of the phial in it.

Harry had needed ear drops just once in his life and remembered that while they felt very uncomfortable, they didn't really hurt. The ones Snape now used felt as though a burning cigarette was pushed right into his ear canal. Luckily it was over quickly, for before Harry even had time to cry out there was a sudden swoosh, and he could see a puff of dark red smoke come out of his ear.

"Now the other one," Snape ordered, and his voice was much louder than it should have.

He shoved Harry's head forcefully to the side to give the same dose to his other ear. This time Harry didn't resist, although it didn't make the experience any less unpleasant. A moment of burning, then another puff of smoke, and now the other ear, too, felt like an empty cavern, echoing from the slightest sound.

Harry felt dizzy and somewhat nauseous, and he stumbled backwards a few steps once Snape let go of him.

"Now then," he said coldly, every word resonating like thunder, "as there shouldn't be any further impediments to your hearing, let me suggest that you _get out of my class_!"

His voice boomed in Harry's ears so loudly that it hurt. This time he obeyed and backed away to the door. On the threshold, however, he turned to say:

"Sure thing, professor. I'll keep you posted about any new leads."

"OUT!"

_Well, that went much better than I imagined_, Harry thought as he walked down the dungeon corridor. The detention had ended considerably sooner than expected, and Snape had been so furious he hadn't even thought to give him more. Also, now he had super hearing.

**Seems a bit strange that Harry wouldn't remember about seeing Mr. Crouch until now, but in the books he didn't connect him with the stolen ingredients at all, so… *shrug* I know Harry might seem a bit out of character in this, but he just got a little carried away. Anyway, in the next chapter we'll find out what's going on with Eloise and Malfoy.**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the franchise.

**Chapter Five**

The dungeons were empty, but they were no longer quiet. Creaks, footsteps, voices and whispers were suddenly everywhere, and Harry could hear all of them. He could tell Mrs Norris was nearby before actually seeing the cat around the next corner. He could hear the breathing, snoring and chattering of the ancient witches and wizards in their portraits whether they were close or at the far end of the corridor. There were nearly silent footsteps echoing all over the castle, probably the house-elves attending to their duties without anyone really seeing them. There was the rattle of a suit of armour stretching, and the fact that there were none in the dungeons and the nearest was two floors up made Harry realize just how much his hearing had improved beyond normal human range. Water dripping from the ceiling echoed as loud splashes in his ears, and he felt like he could now hear almost anything –

"Hnh… mh.."

– even the muffled voices that came from somewhere below him. Harry halted in his tracks, listening closely. It was as if someone was trying to speak while being gagged, and there were various rustling noises coming from the same direction. One of the voices was definitely a girl, and remembering how he had spotted Eloise right before the detention Harry headed for the nearest stairs leading down and descended as quickly as he could without making too much noise himself.

The lower dungeon level was even gloomier than the one with classrooms, and judging by the elaborate webs everywhere it seemed to be the place where the most skilled of the castle's spiders were residing. It would have been impossible to get Ron to come there, but Harry paid no attention to the spiders as he followed the voices to a long, dimly lit corridor. He could now hear giggling, followed by the creak of a door opening and closing. There were more muffled voices, as well as rustling of robes, and Harry wished he had his Invisibility Cloak so he could peek around the corner. He was just about to take the risk when he heard a wet smack that told him all he needed to know even before the voice that was unmistakably Eloise's said:

"Mmh… Oh! Stop that, or we'll have to go back in the closet."

She giggled more than loudly enough to conceal Harry's sigh of disappointment. _There goes that theory._ It had been tempting to think that Eloise was the one the thief was impersonating, but no one would use Polyjuice Potion just to for snogging with someone in the dungeons, especially if the thief really was Mr. Crouch. Harry had now lost one of his leads and only gained the knowledge that apparently Eloise had a Slytherin boyfriend she wished to keep a secret. Or maybe the boy didn't want anyone to know he was dating a Hufflepuff. Either way, Harry had no interest in seeing them smooch, so he might as well leave.

Unfortunately for him, it was just then that he heard Eloise say 'See you tomorrow!' and then their footsteps, one of them heading for the Slytherin common room and the other coming straight at him. There was nowhere to hide and the corridor was too long for Harry to get back to the staircase in time, so after a couple of seconds he found himself face to face with a very startled Eloise Midgeon.

"H-harry!" she gasped and froze up completely. Embarrassment and panic flashed across her pimpled face in one swift wave, and she had to swallow hard several times before finding her voice again, and even then it was trembling. "W-what a-re you doing here?"

"I could ask the same, but I no longer need to," Harry replied honestly. He felt embarrassed to be in this situation too, but clearly not nearly as much as Eloise. She had blanched at the sight of him, but now her face went from white to red as she realized what he meant, and Harry noticed he could hear even her panicked heartbeat. In an attempt to calm her down he added, "Don't worry, though, I didn't see anything. I just came from detention and happened to hear you."

He had hardly finished speaking when Eloise suddenly came at him with pleading eyes and spoke very quickly.

"Promise you won't tell! No one can know! Promise you won't tell anyone about me and Gregory!" she begged. "Please?"

"Oh, okay," Harry said with a shrug. He had nothing to do with her relationships, after all, and as far as he was concerned, she was free to date anyone she wante – wait!

"Gregory?" he repeated, not believing his ears even with their present sensitivity. "Gregory _Goyle_?"

Eloise nodded.

"But why… er, how did that happen?" he asked in utter confusion. The thought of anyone snogging with _Goyle_ was too absurd to even imagine.

Eloise, however, didn't seem to think so, for she flashed him a shy smile, and this time there seemed to be other reasons why she was blushing.

"Well, it started at the Yule Ball," she told him, wringing her hands as she talked, "Neither of us had a date and we sort of… started talking while everyone was dancing. We spent most of the evening in the rose garden and have been seeing each other ever since. I know he's a Slytherin and all, but I really like him: we have fun together, and he never says anything bad about my acne or my nose being off center," she said and, probably out of habit, covered her nose with her hand. "Also, I guess I've always liked guys with big muscles," she confessed, the blush on her face spreading all the way to her ears.

Harry was still having a hard time comprehending this. Crabbe and Goyle were big dumb brutes, and even the thought of either of them having a girlfriend was ridiculous. He supposed that out of the two Goyle was the one that looked slightly less like Dudley, but he couldn't see any reason why anyone should lose their heart to him when there were perfectly good trolls and Blast-Ended Skrewts available.

Harry wondered whether Malfoy knew about this. To Harry's knowledge Goyle was barely bright enough to spell his own name, and he doubted that he could keep secrets for very long, yet Eloise insisted that the affair be kept a secret.

"You really promise you won't tell anybody about us?" Eloise asked, nervous and hopeful at the same time. "Not even Ron and Hermione?"

"Fine," he consented, "But don't you think people will find out at some point? At least Malfoy will notice if Goyle disappears all the time."

"I know, but I'm just not ready to tell anyone yet. Once the word gets out my father is going to hear about it too," she said with a shudder. "My father works for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and he won't like it when he hears I'm with Gregory. Both of his parents were accused of being Death Eaters, you know."

Harry hadn't known, although he could have guessed. He already knew that Malfoy's father had been a supporter of Voldemort, so it was no wonder that the parents of his closest friends had too.

"Well, your father won't hear it from me," he assured, and Eloise smiled.

"Thanks. And… well, I just want to apologize for the bad things me and the others said about you when you became the second Hogwarts champion besides Cedric. I had one of those Potter stinks badges, too, but I haven't worn it since the first task. Anyway, I'm really sorry about that."

Harry nodded. Neither of them said anything for a while, and Harry considered leaving before the silence got too awkward. Then he remembered that even though Eloise didn't have anything to do with the stolen ingredients, with any luck she might still know something.

"By the way, have you two always met here in the dungeons?" he asked her.

Eloise, who had been rocking back and forth on her heels, now stopped and cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, mostly. Why?"

"Have you ever seen anyone suspicious near Snape's office? Like about five weeks before the last task?"

"Only Filch," she said bitterly. "He caught me coming here once. It was so unfair: Gregory has been caught a few times, too, but Snape only took ten points from Slytherin while professor Sprout took _fifty_ points from Hufflepuff when I was out of bed! I've never lost so many points! Since then we have met mostly during the day when everyone else is in the Great Hall. Anyway, why do you ask?"

She looked pretty curious now, but when Harry dodged the question by suggesting that they return upstairs, she agreed and let it go for now. On the way she tried to smooth the hems of her robes and redid her braids, which had been pretty messed up after whatever she and Goyle had been doing in the closet.

They separated in a corridor that Harry assumed was near the Hufflepuff common room, and Harry had already gone up three more floors when Eloise came running after him, panting heavily as she ran up the stairs to catch up with him.

"Harry, wait! I just remembered – I did see someone!"

**Next stop: Hogsmeade. Comments will help the Hogwarts Express get there faster.**


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